Last night as my husband and I were driving home from a long day out of town, we drove down the long road that leads straight to the capital building to end our car date night with a pretty view before arriving home.
This road lead us past our main hospital.
We immediately looked at each other, both of us flooded with so many memories. Some good and some bad - but all of them came rushing in at the same time.
The memory of his allergic reaction where he spent the night alone while I was in California.
The memory of Emergency Room visits because I was internally bleeding due to an ectopic pregnancy.
The memory of endless HCG tests to see if the many pregnancies were headed in the right direction - or the HCG tests to make sure that after the miscarriages the levels were going down so we could try again.
The memory of that damn orange sugar water. Or the specialty appointments because it took so long to get to this point- I am considered ‘geriatric - high risk’
The memory of the the man that never gave up on us - that never hesitated to pick up the call when I was panicked about something random - the man who brings me to tears just the thought of him - our OBGYN.
The memory of the 6 nights in total that we spent there during the birth of the children that we never thought we would get to hold in our arms.
That’s the thing - just because you made it through your storm, doesn’t mean that the storm didn’t leave devastation. In the middle of feeling all that devastation - I always take time to think of the babes that should still be here.
Written by Sarah Skaggs- Vice President
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